


bartender ( can you pour some love? )

by lesbianjeongyeon



Series: your heart is all i own (and in your eyes you're holding mine) [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-03 07:46:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10239344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianjeongyeon/pseuds/lesbianjeongyeon
Summary: ten years ago, maggie sawyer and alex danvers were in love but after a tragic falling out before prom they broke up and at a high school reunion they've met up and found each other again.---i know that i have said things i regret when i am sobercause we always hurt the ones we love the mosti messed up and i know it, if i hurt you girl im sorry butit's good to see the girl i used to know.





	1. Chapter 1

Reunions are boring and dull, and this one for certain was going to be the death of you. That is what you had told your partner back at the precinct in National City. That is what you had told your mother over the phone. That is what you had accidentally rambled to the taxi driver on the way to the airport, and that is what you had told yourself in the mirror that afternoon. And yet, this had been the best evening imagined. And against all odds, you somehow thank Alex Danvers for this.

You’ve done enough of the small talk already, you’ve done the main backstory talk with all the boring summaries while standing idly with shitty punch in your hand. You’ve learned about her college days and Kara, you learned about Lucy Lane who you admittedly like a little more now that you aren’t internally seething at the idea of her being coupled with your teenage love. Something that you’ve noted now, **_seventeen_** times (yes, you’ve been counting) that it shouldn’t be bothering you and it is.

You’ve learned about the fancy title, and that yes, bioengineer and government facility doesn’t seem to cut it, you’re a detective, you detect, and you can tell that there’s more there. But you’ve conceded that pushing on that subject with your first night meeting in ten years might not be the best first step.

So, you let things slide, let missteps in the stories go, and you file them for later. You were pleasantly surprised when she had mentioned living in National City, where you got to mention you had just moved. And you move in with your boring backstories, though she begs to differ on the boring front. Go on about police academy days, and Gotham tragedies, the numerous dates and you notice, or at least you think you do the way her smile twitches downward at their mention, and for moment you relish in it.

You both come full circle with the past ten years, having left the reunion, been ditched already by one Lucy Lane and making your way to the only bar in Midvale open past eleven at night. The last few minutes had been spent in comfortable silence.

The only sounds coming from the late-night beach town traffic, waves crashing very softly in the distance, and the few shaky breaths you allow yourself to make. Though you swear if you allowed yourself the moment to listen you could hear your own heart thumping away, loud enough to kill the silence.

In the end though, what breaks the silence is her.

“You know, Kara was saying they just put in a brand-new pool table in this place.”

“And Kara knows that because she frequents this bar?”

You try your best not to sound shocked but from what you remember of the smallest Danvers, the last place you would expect her hang out was the bar most of the local fishermen and older men hung around during the late hours.

“Kara did her reunion planning here.”

“At a sports bar?”

“She kind of knows the bartender.”

“At the sports bar.”  This time there is no hiding your shock, and apparently there’s no hiding her amusement.

“It’s kind of different now, under new management, I guess.”

You try to keep the skeptical look off your face, but even pulling your leather jacket closer around you apparently does not do the trick. Because within seconds there is laughter spilling from her lips and it has your stomach doing more dreaded flips.  And you spend a few moments wanting to berate yourself for turning right back into the seventeen year old sap you once were. You once called it the Alex Danvers Effect, and you think it must still exist, that she must still have that same power she once did. You take a deep breath though and try to collect your thoughts.

“You guess?”

“Yeah, it’s called The Canary now. It’s just different.”

The Canary is vastly different than the basic bum ass name you’re pretty sure it had before. Something such as The Wharf, if you remember right. And you find yourself humming as you agree, it is a change. Different indeed.

The silence falls upon the two of you once again, but it only lasts a minute or two this time before she ends up breaking it once again, bumping shoulders with you as she does.

“Let’s make a bet.”

“Uh oh,” you say it almost instantaneous. Making bets with Alex Danvers has never led to anything good with you.

“Kara says there’s a pool table in there, as I’ve said. And I’ve given you ten years to improve, loser buys the next round?”

“Who’s buying the first?”

The question is rolling off your tongue immediately before you can even stop it, you feel like this is flirting. It probably isn’t, but maybe it is. The Danvers and Sawyer brand kind of flirting that you two always had.

“You are, you’re the one that asked me for drinks.”

Oh, it’s _definitely_ flirting. And you’re laughing, full-fledged, actually laughing. Not the forced kind that you often do when you’re out with girls you’re trying to like, but the kind that makes you want to catch your breath.

“Is that so, Danvers?”

“Mhmmmmm.” She’s drawing out the word, and her lips tug up and a smirk, and for a second you find yourself wanting to kiss her.

Maybe up against the brick wall that you’ve come up to just now. It’d really only take a second, kind of like those days behind the school where you’d take her hand by surprise and tug her across the school yard behind the cafeteria building and -

“We’re here.”

She interrupts you before you get a chance to really let your mind wander too much farther.

“What?”

“We’re here, nerd.”

“Um, you remember if anyone is the nerd here it’s you right?”

Her eyes crinkle in the corners when she smiles, and you think for a moment as she tugs open the door, that you might like to count how many times you’re able to make that happen tonight.

“Keep wishing on those shooting stars of yours, Danvers.”

\------

The bar isn’t anything like you remember. You remember a seedy place for fishermen, and your father, and idiot boys from your school that thought fake ideas would trick people that have grown up in the same town as them.

You think about the way when your dad would drag you along and have you do your homework in the back booth. You think about how Alex used to come here in the afternoons after a day at the beach, and you’d tag along for a game of pool because besides the bowling alley this was the only place with a pool table in the entirety of the small beach town.

And though the décor, the aesthetic, the inside has changed. The build hasn’t, you can still see the bathrooms in the corner, you can see the little supply closet just next to it, and you can see flashes of the first time you ever kissed Alex Danvers, scared and nervous and in love with the way your lips fit perfectly against hers.

You’re both seated in the corner of the bar in a booth that’s surprisingly comfortable. Before you have a chance to speak someone comes over that Alex clearly recognizes, and it’s someone you’ve never met in your life. She’s blonde haired, and if you had to guess a few years younger than yourself maybe only a few years older than Kara, if any at all. You don’t realize that you’re staring until she throws you a smile that makes you feel like she knows something you don’t.

“Hey Sara,” your thoughts are interrupted by Alex giving a name to the stranger’s face.

“Alex, hey!” She turns to you next. “And Alex’s friend. How’re you doing?”

It’s then you recognize, that when you’re not over analyzing she’s very pretty. That jealous flare comes back, if only for a moment and you feel the urge to slap yourself. Just because Alex has an ability make friends in the ten years that you haven’t seen her -- an ability that you seemed to lack -- doesn’t mean you can hold it against her.

“Maggie,” you answer simply. “Maggie Sawyer, and I’m alright, just a little shocked at how quickly this place cleaned up, or that Alex has been here enough to know the bartender.”

You’re smirking, mostly because when you glance over at Alex, she’s blushing and you feel somewhat accomplished.

“Oh I kn –“

“Sara, behave.” Alex interrupts Sara, and you’re almost disappointed with this, part of you wanted to know where that sentence was going.

“Sara’s the new management I was talking about. She moved here from Star City, kind of.”

You try not to show your confusion but a quirked brow still gives you away, but you don’t feel too bad because Sara laughs.

“It’s a long story, trust me.”

“And I’m sure probably not one you normally tell a stranger.”

“Not usually, no you’re right there. Anyways, what can I get you ladies tonight? First rounds on me.”

“The first round is always on you.”

“One day, I’m hoping you’ll forget about that bet.”

“Never, Lance.”

You know there’s a story there, but no matter how rude it is, you’re keen to get Alex alone again, this is about catching up with her. And hear more than the normal everyday details you were told at the reunion, more than what she’s already told you. And maybe you just don’t want the night to end, so the longer you extend it, the longer you can enjoy this small paradise.

“The usual for me, and let’s give Sawyer here your house special.”

“Ordering for me, Danvers?”

“Just trust me on it, and if you don’t like it I’ll buy you drinks for the rest of the night.”

“That’s a pretty risky chance considering the last time you saw me drink anything, we were stealing wine out of your mom’s stash.”

“Let’s just say, I’m good at these things.”

You hold her gaze and her smirk, and match it with your own. This is what you missed about her, she always kept you on your toes. This kind of connection. And you try not to allow yourself to admit it but maybe it’s filling that void in your heart, just a little bit.

You didn’t notice until that moment that Sara had already retreated to her spot behind the bar without a word, and that meant you were alone with Alex. And though that had been what you wanted, you don’t think this through because suddenly there’s an increase in your heart rate, and your stomach swoops, and these are all very bad signs.

“Soooo, I’ve spent most of the night talking about me, and I still don’t feel like I’m caught up,” Alex breaks the silence. And you’ve never been more appreciative because you felt like your tongue had been stuck to the roof of your mouth.

“What more is there to say? I told you I went the Academy and got a Criminal Justice and Biology dual major. Lived in Gotham for a little bit, got a promotion and was transferred out to National City about two months ago.”

“I can’t believe you’ve been in the city that whole time and I had no idea.”

“We haven’t really kept in touch,” and you wince as soon as the words leave your mouth, regret painting your face as hers turns unreadable. Wrong thing to say.

“I know, I just, that’s crazy. I know it’s a city but it’s not that big, and as much as I’m out and about with Kara and – “ she stops speaking abruptly, and you can’t help but quirk your brow because what did Kara have to do with running into each other? “-- um, I just mean sometimes our cases overlap with things that Kara reports on.”

You can tell she’s lying. You’re a detective, a cop, it’s kind of part of your job, but you’ve always been able to read Alex. You know her, you always have. Even ten years later.

“Hm,” you hum not sure how to respond. “Well, I work for the Science Division, with my background both education and job wise, and all the alien activity recently, I’ve been put on cases that aren’t usually out in the open.”

This time, she gets an expression that makes you feel like you’re missing something because you see where she turns a bit paler. Where she’s chewing at her lip, how her eyes haven’t exactly met yours yet.

“Aliens huh?”

“They’re out there, Danvers.”

“Don’t I know it,” and she laughs, and that’s how you know the tension is dissipating for your earlier mistake.

Sara is suddenly at your table, clearing her throat to get your attention. Apparently neither of you had been paying attention and she had snuck up to the table catching both of you off guard. Alex even jumps a little, for her sake you keep in the laugh that threatens to spill out.

“Your drinks, ladies. Let me know if you need anything else. But maybe take your time, there’s a beautiful girl over there, and I’m pretty sure I’m seconds away from getting her number.”

Neither of you have a chance to answer because before you know it, she’s thrown a wink your way and has zipped away once again. You look at Alex hoping for an explanation but she just shakes her head and mumbles something that had sounded similar to constantly horny idiot, but you’re not sure. Shrugging she just throws up her hands.

“Don’t ask me, neither Kara nor I have an explanation for that one. But for some reason we keep her around, she’s in the wedding.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, Kara and Lucy want it small and on the beach here, but they want a few people in it. Sara’s been pretty close with us the last few years, um. Helped us – me, with a few things.”

Your hand tightens around the glass, and you hadn’t taken a drink yet but you suddenly wish it was something stronger than the beer in front of you, you don’t think you’ll make it through the night hearing about Alex’s past loves and losses.

“But, you’ve already heard one tragic break up story from me, Sawyer. So your turn to spill.”

Apparently, Alex can bare to hear yours though. You groan hoping that she isn’t serious because relaying the past five or six flings you’ve had that have all ended poorly is not how you want to end your night.

“Ah, c’mon, Danvers. Do we gotta?”

“It’s only fair, just one.”

“I really haven’t been in anything serious – “

“Just one.”

You take a drink of the beer, and to your surprise you do actually enjoy the drink. You wonder if this is your out for this conversation.

“You know this is really good.”

“And I’m glad, because I could not afford to buy all your drinks for the night, and for breakfast in the morning. But c’mon, just make me feel a little better about using my sisters fiancé as a date tonight.”

“Breakfast?”

“Sawyer!”

She sounds exasperated but only playfully and you groan again, loudly and dramatized before you’re relenting.

“Fine, fine. I don’t know, this was a few months ago, but we were in something serious, but she knew I was moving out of Gotham and instead of openly admitting she didn’t want to move with me, she cheated on me and then called me obsessed with work, borderline sociopathic, the works.”

You know maybe that was a little heavy, especially by the way Alex frowns, but that really hadn’t even compared to the break up you had with her. Sure, maybe your first love hurt, but that had always felt a little different. A little more than first love.

“Maggie…”

“Hey, it was a while ago, I’m okay now.”

“Still.”

You give a smile because you want to reassure her that everything is okay and that you’re alright.

“But enough angst for one night, c’mon. What’s this about breakfast.”

“I just figured maybe we could hang out one more time this weekend before we have to go back to the city and jobs get in the way. Who knows when you’ll agree to see me again, Sawyer.”

She teases you but you can feel the undertone of worry and sadness, and you immediately want to make it so she doesn’t feel either of those emotions.

“Hey, you can’t get rid of me now, Danvers. Not with you being so close now. As long as you’re paying, you know I can always eat.”

You try not to think about how this sounds like a date, you try not to think about it because getting drinks to catch up is one thing, getting breakfast is another. And especially if she’s offering to pay. That sounds like a date. And it can’t be, Alex just got out of a relationship, and you’ve just managed to find the biggest regret of your life. And its not a date, that’s what you repeat six times before you almost allow yourself to believe it.

“Well, good. But maybe if that’s the case, just this drink tonight? I’d hate to start something we can’t finish and then miss the breakfast I just promised you.”

“Yeah, same.”

“Besides when have I ever broken a promise to you?”

“True,” and you’re lying through your teeth and both of you know it. The last time you both had broken promises to each other was the worst night of your teenage life, and maybe your whole life entirely.

           -------

And here’s the thing about promises, and Alex Danvers. There’s no telling when she’s ever going to be able to keep them.

That’s the only coherent thought you have when the sun is seeping its way through the curtains that are apparently too thin and cheap considering the price you spent on this little bed and breakfast. The second coherent thought might be that surprisingly hot considering the only thing on your body should be the sheet crumpled at your hips.

Should be.

But isn’t, considering you have a very long, slim, bare leg hitched around your own hip, arm slung around you and face pressed against you. And your senses are coming back to you, and every inch of your skin tingles.

And your mouth feels like cotton, and if you tilt your head anymore you’ll have a face full of bed head, and a nose full of a scent only best described as Alex Danvers, and you don’t even have to open your eyes anymore to know where this morning is going.

Flashes of the night before play like a skipping DVD of your childhood, or a bad film reel. You remember promising only one drink, and then you remember the shots of ‘really great German mixed alcohol, only the best, tasted by myself’, promised by Sara. And you both had promised yourself maybe two at the most. But two had turned into a game of pool which had turned into apparent bets, and you don’t know where the night went. But you think there might have been some dancing.

 

 _“You used to love dancing with me, Danvers.”_  
_“You used to_ know _how to dance.”_  
            _“What does that mean!?”_  
_“I don’t think you can when you’re heavily intoxicated.”_  
_“I’m not drunk, you’re drunk.”  
__“I think we both are.”_

_Alex giggles, and your stomach swoops. And your head spins, but you still stumble toward her, and somehow the music thumping in your ears drowns out the way your heart seems to be pounding in your chest._

_You try to let the music cover up ten-year-old drunken thoughts that surface about how you’re dancing with a woman you could have danced with ten years ago, but instead you’ll remember that night and probably barely even recall this one._

Thrown back toward reality your stomach doesn’t another turn but of a different kind, one mixed with a horrible hangover and gut wrenching anxiety. And though you’ve contemplated your movements for the past three minutes, any ideas of moving cease when Alex’s body stiffens slightly as she rouses from sleep.

Her leg tightens around you, and you try not to think even think about making a sound, or reacting at how both frustrating and pleasant it may feel. Instead all you can do is hold your breath, hoping, praying that she thinks you’re still asleep. All your hopes are dashed when you realize she already knows though, she always has, especially asyou feel your world tumbling to a stop with the next six words.

“So much for my promise, huh?”


	2. we must not be thinking ('cause we can’t get enough)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> full disclosure, i didn't really do too much editing on this half of the chapter.

_You move to Midvale in the middle of your junior year, barely seventeen and emotionally fragile, and physically the tallest you’ll ever get, not that you knew that then. Your aunt thinks all the sun and seaside will be good for your “gloomy attitude”. You remind her that it’s depression, and you’re trying. You’re trying, trying, trying._

_She says that she knows, but you it’s pretty hard to do that from the comfort of your makeshift room, being homeschooled for the last four months. You admit that maybe you miss a school atmosphere._

_(You don’t miss the bruising that’s too hard to cover up, or the slurs, or the dirty looks. You don’t.)_

_Your aunt swears that your life will be better, that you deserve it and you don’t believe her until Alex Danvers is the one that shows up to the office to be your unfortunate tour guide._

_Alex Danvers is a sophomore, who you learn is taking mostly junior courses, and she’s breathtaking. The best part? She looks you up and down in a way that just screams anything but straight._

_You were right about the gay thing, of course you were, now if only she had known that before you had accidentally sent her into a gay panic spiral. You spend months leading into the summer between school years helping Alex Danvers realize herself._

_You sit there when she tries to convince herself to date Jackson Wright, you sit there while she talks about Vicky like she hung the moon in the sky (battling jealousy the whole time), only to feel pity when she says it’ clearly platonic. You’re there through it all._

_You’re there through the start of you two though, the pinpoint moment where your lives intertwine so tightly that yanking you two apart would be painful._

_(And it was, oh was it.)_

_You think about the way her lips felt against yours. The way that when you were in the first month of your senior year, she walks up to you after a softball game and kisses you like there’s no one else in the locker room. How soft she felt, how she still tasted like that cucumber chap stick that she used religiously. The way that her hair got in the way but you didn’t care._

i >Your heart had beat so fast, you thought it was broken, and your stomach swoops, and your palm sweats. And you spent the rest of your young days trying to get that feeling to repeat itself, over and over. 

_You kiss Alex against the brick wall of the Freshman building. You slip your hands under her shirt for the first time, in the sand that touches her backyard at four in the morning, distracting her from her morning surf._

_You two have your first time together, in a broken in motel room during the fall formal, just before Thanksgiving. With swiped keys from the old-style bed and breakfast counter, and slightly tipsy bodies caused by the spiked punch, adrenaline spurred moments had created the most electric and softest moments of your life._

_It wasn’t perfect, you elbowed her in the stomach, she struggled with determination to unhook your bra. The both of you had toppled off the bed at least twice in your excitement. Both of you feel too much, too fast, and there might have been tears on both sides. Handholding. Reassurances._

_But in those moments with Alex Danvers, you had felt happy. You had felt alive._

_Every moment you created with her, every single one alone, with her friends (your friends), sneaking around or in the knowledge of people around you were great. But you’ve always wanted more than you had, always wanted that extra mile._

_Having your team know, her friends know. Wasn’t enough, you wanted more._

_And maybe that’s why you break everything you touch, because you yearn for things you don’t need._

What happens when you break Alex Danvers for a second time? 

What happens if she breaks you?

 

\----

You’re stuck so far in your head, and in your memories, that you forget to surface, and the only reason you do is because someone pinches you in your side.

Alex Danvers pinches you in your side.

She’s got a look on her face like, she’s annoyed but you’ve watched those eyes for far too long now, that you can differentiate between the true feelings and her fake expressions. You see nervousness and vulnerability swirling in them like the first day you ever met her. And it makes you swallow harshly.

“Hello, earth to Sawyer. Come in Sawyer.” She’s going to pinch you again, but you swat your hand away. A fixed glare in place.

“I’m here, Danvers.”

“Oh see, and here I thought maybe you were just ignoring me in hoping that you could feign sleep. Which you can’t because I know you snore.”

“I do not snore!”

Your indignant pout causes her to small just barely, and you’re feeling a little relaxed given the current situation. 

“You never answered my question.”

“What?”  
“From when we literally woke up?”

“Ah.”

You’re still not really answering it, you notice. And so, does she because she just ticks a brow and you kind of fight the urge to hide under the blankets like a child, away from her gaze. 

“Wouldn’t be the first promise we’ve broken to each other.”

You don’t know when your brain to mouth filter had it shut itself off, but after those words tumbled out of your mouth, you really wish that it would turn back on. Alex hadn’t made any attempts previously to move where she was curled around you, but she’s stiffened now. Like she’s trying to decide that staying in that position would make the words hurt less, or if slipping out of bed, into clothes, and out the door would be socially appropriate yet.

“Alex, I -”

“Don’t say sorry, clearly that’s something you wanted to say.”

“What? No, it’s not.” 

You’re still tired, but that doesn’t stop the frustration from literally leaking into your voice, it doesn’t stop your brow from furrowing. It doesn’t stop the pit in your stomach hurting that little bit more.

“Maybe I should go. Give you some space.”

“You mean go back to not speaking for ten more years?”

This time she’s the one that goes quiet, she opens her mouth like she has a reply, but its stuck somewhere. Just last night you two had been talking about probably keeping in touch once you’ve returned to National City. A better part of you hoped for even more than just occasional trips for coffee to catch up on the weeks to pass. But now this happens and you feel it crumbling at your fingertips. 

You don’t even notice when your hold against her tightens.

“We live in the same city now, Sawyer. I doubt that you and I wouldn’t cross paths.”

“Is that what you from me? To just cross paths.”

Thick, heavy, emotional talks were not your strong suit. Especially not first thing in the morning, still wrapped up in the very naked woman you might possibly always have some sort of feelings for. Usually you’re much more tactical with your feelings though, different in every way. But right now, it’s like ten year’s worth of emotions have surfaced and words just keep tumbling out. And you wonder if Alex feels the same.

(She does.)

To your great fear, she starts to detach herself from your side, taking the sheet with her. Your free hand clings to the blanket, to keep some sort of decency. And she moves to sit up, looking down at your sprawled form with a wry smile. An expression you’re not sure you’re reading correctly.

“I think this is a conversation better done with some clothes on.”

“Uh, yeah.”

You nod because you don’t know what more to say at that, you don’t like that your question has gone unanswered, but you admit that having a full emotional talk with literally just sheets covering your body might eventually become counterproductive. Or completely awkward altogether, depending the outcome.

You surprise the sad noise that threatens leaves your lips when she finally moves off the bed, the distance suddenly feeling very real. But you’re Maggie Sawyer, dammit, it has been ten years and you are stronger than this. 

You try out of courtesy you guess to avert your eyes when she stands up, the long sheet covering her body solely. But it only lasts about ten seconds before your eyes are looking up through your lashes to glance at her as she collects articles of clothing from the rooms floor, slightly scattered. 

“Towel?”

“What?”

“Do you have a towel I can use?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. They’re on the back of the toilet, on the rack.”

She beams at you before she disappears into the bathroom connected to your room, and you feel the butterflies return, and your anxiety only spikes with every passing moment. You take three minutes to yourself just to do some breathing exercises, you need to focus and center yourself and thinking about Alex Danvers in the shower is not the best way to do that.

But still the shower’s running, and the steam sifts through the slight crack and the door, and it takes all of yourself control to look away. It takes even more so to stand up and locate your favorite pair of boxers to sleep in and the softest tee shirt you can find. 

You think for a moment about the outfit that Alex Danvers had shown up in last night, tight jeans and a nice shirt. You don’t think you own a pair of pants that would cover her legs, but you have some work out shorts that you bought to sleep in, that might be a bit short on her but comfortable, and a Gotham PD shirt so baggy that you slept in it most nights and that alone.

You suppose you don’t really think about your actions as you slide open the door, you had heard the water running still, so you figured she must have been in the shower. What you don’t expect is the very moment you crack open the door, is the exact moment Alex decides she’s done and shuts the shower off, opening the curtain.

It all happens in a blur after that. 

“What are you doing?!”

“I brought you clothes - ah - ugh to wear, so you don’t have to -”

“Maggie, stop staring!”

“Put a towel on!”

“You walked in on me!”

In all fairness she’s right, that’s why you suppose you cover your eyes with your freehand, and reach with a lot of hope to set the clothes down on the counter before turning away. 

You really can’t help but mumble, “it’s not like I hadn’t seen it all before, Danvers.”

She makes a sound that seems like it falls somewhere between a squeak and a huff, and you crack a smirk because you know she can’t see it.

“Regardless, you thought that was grounds for barging in here?”

“Oh my god. I was bringing you better, comfortable clothes to change into.”

“And you couldn’t knock!”

You hear rustling but you still haven’t made any attempt to leave, and you’re pretty sure she’s drying herself off. Which, all together the thought of that still internally has you groaning, because again you saw Alex Danvers’ naked form and you’re not even close enough to reach out. To touch, let alone kiss her, or even get a better look at this point.

“The shower was running I figured, I could slip in and set them down and leave.”

“What’s keeping you from leaving now then?”

“Uh,” you stop because well, she does seem to have a good point there.

“It’s fine, I’m done changing anyways.”

You definitely do not jump, no matter what could be said otherwise, when Alex places a hand on your shoulder. Instead, you let your eyes open back up, and bring your palm down and let your gaze adjust the light once more. Turning on the spot to look at the woman with you.

“So -”

“So, I was thinking since we probably missed breakfast, we could always order in something to qualify as a brunch.”

You try not to seem like you’re too bothered with the subject change, but you remember Alex and she was notorious for putting of things she didn’t exactly want to talk about. But before you could protest, your stomach makes an obnoxious grumbling noise, and you feel betrayed. 

“Come on, Sawyer, it looks like even your stomach agrees with me.”

You heave a sigh, but as the both of you exit the bathroom, your gaze catches the disheveled bed, and you can’t help but want to reiterate the importance of finding out exactly what’s going on here. Where they go from here, if there is anything going on at all. You need to know because the pit in your stomach that was once just butterfly induced, is now riddled with anxiety and fear, and you wonder if Alex knows how scared you are of losing her again.

“Fine, but after this food or even better during this, we need to talk.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

-

It turns out, there’s still a diner in the area that makes extra cash from under paying high schools students with licenses to deliver to the surrounding neighborhoods. And the both of you order way too much for just the two of you, but neither of you could really decide to lean toward lunch or breakfast dishes, so Alex decided to order both since she was paying.

You had felt as if you should argue, but she had ordered food that you liked so easily, from memory, that you had actually forgotten your words for a second. And before you knew it the order was placed and there was no argument to be had.

You think the second-best thing after kissing Alex Danvers after ten years is having Jay’s famous blueberry pancakes once more. It had been so long, and you admit the taste of the food might have distracted you from your conversation for a little bit.

Alex has all but devoured her steak and egg sandwich, and is now leaning very gracefully against the couch with the container still in her lap. Her gaze moves toward you, and you swallow harshly and almost choke on the food in your mouth because of it. She looks ready to say something, but she also looks scared to say it, so you figure now is a better time than any to wing it and just let it out.

“If you want, we can forget last night ever happened. But I really don’t want to go back to forgetting you exist, Danvers.”

“Me neither. But…” 

You once again find yourself trying to ignore the smile on her face, it’s a little easier when you become worried about the end of that sentence and the way she trailed off like it could possibly ruin everything if she says it.

So of course, you ask her to clarify.

“But what?”

“But, I don’t think I could forget last night even if I wanted to.”

“Oh.”

You don’t mean to sound like that, but she caught you so off guard that you don’t know how to respond any other way. Shock colors your features, and a blush colors hers, as she clears her throat and looks away.

“Despite what you may think, Maggie, I don’t want to forget anything that’s ever happened between us.”

You try not to let yourself get caught off guard, but you must look pretty caught off guard because here you are mouth agape, eyes wide, and your heart going a mile a minute. You don’t think that she’s really said anything too over the top, maybe just a little open. 

And by the way she’s nervously wringing her hands, or chewing on her lip, you think she knows too. So, you do the only thing you think that will calm her down and whisper your own reassuring words.

“I could never forget any part of you, Alex.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> definitely one of my shorter chapters planned, because i wanted to end it there, hopefully that didn't seem to abrupt.
> 
> come check out the reunion au tag, or hit me up at @sawyerdnvers


	3. i have travelled the world (there’s no other girl like you)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up @sapphictrinis for any questions!!!

You remember the way her face crumbled first, you always remember that first.

And then you remember everything else.

It starts out like any other memory that has Alex in it, with a pit in your stomach and a flutter in your chest and an ache for what could have been.

\--

She looked beautiful, she always looked beautiful. But that night, she had looked like the most beautiful thing to ever walk the halls of Midvale High, the most beautiful girl in the whole town, the whole state, the whole universe.

She outshined every star and made you feel like even though you had felt like somewhere out in space is where you belonged, you could feel happy anywhere, as long as she was there. 

And you thought you’d have to take up a religion for the reaction you got when you saw her in the dress.

“It’s not too much is it?”

“What?”

“This dress, it’s not too much? I know it’s the only prom, and people make a big deal out of it, and you hate that, so I don’t want to make a big deal out of it. I just...it’s not too much?”

You let your eyes roam over the lilac dress, the way it fits against her skin, you know all the other girls had banned their boyfriends from letting them see their dress, and you pity them. How could they ever want to miss a sight like this?

You suppose you can’t blame them, but it was a dumb tradition that played into a second stupid tradition of not seeing your wife before the wedding day, and you’ve felt very strongly about it.

Thankfully Alex agreed because here you were helping her pick something that matches the cute tuxedo outfit you’ve already picked up. 

The dress itself had a trim across her chest made of jewels, and the way the thin dress didn’t puff out at the end seemed to be a bonus because you knew how Alex despised dresses too big and too much talk in. There was a slit that went up to her leg that was almost sinful, and you clench your fist against your jeans to make sure you don’t reach out allow your fingers to trail up it.

She’s letting her hands drift down her dress as if she’s pressing out any wrinkles, and your brain short circuits for a second because the dress is strapless, and when your gaze finally land on her collarbone, her shoulders, her neck, you feel your mind halting and yourself staring. And you know she knows.

She knows because she clears her throat.

“Maggie?”

“Uh, sorry Danvers.”

“It’s okay, just you never answered me.”

And you know it’s true so you rip your gaze away and fixate on a spot on the ground that’s clearly a stain. Trying to formulate the words you want to say before you let yourself make eye contact with her once more.

“Alex, never do something because you think it’s what I want, okay? And I would never make you do something just because I’m a grumpy one who thinks somethings are stupid. I care about how you feel, and your feelings on things as well.”

(You don’t know how much you’d come to eat your own words in the weeks to come. How stupid you act in the future.)

“I think you look beautiful, and that it goes go great with what I’m wearing. Though I think you’d look great in anything if I’m honest. And I know we’re not openly going to prom together, not like that. But taking you to prom in that dress? I’m not worthy of the opportunity, Danvers.”

And you mean every word you say, you know that you’re going to the prom as friends so her mother doesn’t find out, you know that only each other’s respective teams really know about the two of you going together, and you agreed to only tell someone if they asked and let the rest assume what they may.

You know her only fear is her mother.

But you truly do not deserve the girl in front of you, you’re so caught up in thinking about it, you don’t even hear her bashful  _ ‘Thanks, Sawyer,’  _ in reply.

\--

The first time you know you’ve fucked up is when you hear her shaky breath, the way she holds back tears when you suggest going to pick her up before the dance.

The way you want to punch yourself just a little bit for striking that kind of fear in her eyes, you know better than anyone what it’s like to be a victim of your parents hate, of the hate the world can bring on someone. And yet you still push, and you still ask.

“She won’t know I’m taking you.”

“I’ve already told her that James was coming to get Kara and Me. And that we were meeting everyone at the dance, Mags.”

“She wouldn’t even know! It’d be a change of plans, I understand you don’t want to tell her we’re dating, and that for once she’s not chaperoning, and that you’re scared, but we’re not kissing in front of her, we’re not kissing there, the last I can do is pick you up -”

“Maggie, no!”

And the way she snaps, the way her body tightens, the way she seems frozen in place after interrupting you, you know she feels bad but you can’t help but still jump. You’ve hated yelling since you left the home you had before. 

“Maggie, I’m sorr -”

“It’s fine,” you cut in, but you sound too tense, and too tired for it to be believable. 

“It’s not, I snapped, I just can’t do it. Okay? I want to but I just can’t. It’s too much of a risk, the team knowing is fine as it is. And too risky, I just can’t.”

“Okay.”

“Maggie.”

“I said it’s okay, Danvers. Why would I have a problem with it.”

You’re counting from ten backward, in your head. You’re trying to control yourself, pile all your feelings inside and not let your burning disappointment show.

Alex feels already like she’s not enough and you need her to always feel like she is, so just because you’re upset because you want all of that, because you’re out, does not make it fair.

But it burns, the want, it lights up like a flame. The need to do all the things you wish you could normally with her.

But when your eyes meet hers a pang of guilt hits your stomach like a comet to the ground, she’s got her arms crossed, worrying her lip between her teeth. It’s a look you’ve seen over for dinner at her house, the same look she gets while she's has to sit through yet another night of her mother giving off reasons that Alex has failed. Providing her with ways that Alex can improve. 

It’s a look that you’ve noticed means that she’s feeling inadequate. 

“Alex, I - I just want to go to a dance with you, and steal you away to kiss you on the football field but most of all, I want to be here for you. I don’t want to pressure.”

You don’t know then, but that pause before she whispered her ‘okay’?

That should have been a sign.

It’s hours before prom, and you’re about to royally fuck up. 

You’ve let the deepest part of you get to your head, that you aren’t enough, that you’re never going to be enough, and that Alex is one day going to realize what your parents felt, what you’re feeling every day. 

That you aren’t worthy.

And that’s why Alex won’t tell her mother.

(You don’t realize how terrible you’ll feel about being mad she wouldn’t come out, for months from now.)

It starts with a text.

_ Are you sure you don’t want me to come to your place first, Danvers? _

_ No. _

_ Positive? _

_ Maggie, we talked about this. _

And you relent because you had talked about this, this was was something you’ve spent the last month talking about.

First those around you, your sports teams, your friends, then anyone who asks at prom, and then - maybe closer to graduation, they’ll tell her mother.

(Your aunt already knows, but you don't mention that. You didn’t want to add to the stress at the time.)

You should have just left it there. Should have let it go, you’ll learn to regret this moment for the next ten years to come.

-

What ends it, this constant fear is that you overreact when Alex panics on the dance floor.

The start of the end happens when you get to the school, and you go to hold her hand, and she tugs away.

The start of the end happens when you don’t even make it into the dance because she’s tense and nervous and something in you snaps.

Something, some type of fate has never had any intentions of you being happy.

Of letting you stay happy.

Because you ruin everything you have ever touched, including this.

It starts when she tugs you to the football field and says. 

“I’m not ready.”

“What do you mean?”   
“I’m not ready, I know I said I was okay going to prom together, kind of. But I can’t do it.”

She sounds scared and honestly nervous. But you’ve had this insecurity bubbling under your skin for almost two weeks now, and you’ve had it turn from scared to misplaced anger almost immediately and you’re so emotional that you start speaking before you think.

“You’re not -  _ ready? _ ”

“Yeah,” she licks her lips out of a nervous habit and if you weren’t so entirely worked up you might have let yourself get distracted by it. 

“So what, we’re just supposed to go in there and act even more friendly than we already were.”

“My mom’s friend’s going to be there, our friends are going to be there. Anyone could find out and I just don’t think it’s a good idea tonight.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

And there’s a pause, one that had you counting the seconds go by. You had gotten to twenty-seven before she spoke.

“Yeah, Maggie, I think we should just go as friends.”

There’s another pause.

Fifteen seconds this time.

Fifteen seconds you could have had to think of a better response, and yet you went with the first one that came to mind.

“Maybe we should start going as friends on other dates too. Better yet, maybe friends happens to be a better label.”

You know you’ve overstepped a line when her jaw drops, lip quivers but no words come out.

“I’ve tried to be patient, Danvers. I said I’d do this with you however you wanted, and you wanted to go as a couple. Or kind of anyway. And now, last minute you’re changing your mind? Because of your mother?”

You take a deep breath but it does nothing to calm your nerves. 

“I know -”

“You don’t know, Danvers, that’s the thing. I’ve put up with you going out of your way, and mine frankly to make sure she has no idea about this. And now you want to ruin our senior prom together on a fear? That maybe, someone might mention that we danced a little close together.”

“Maggie -”

“No, I told you when we started this before, relationships where one person is out and the other isn’t, just don’t work.”

“Maggie, what are you saying?” And the way her tone changed, is what scared you the most. The nervous lilt in it, the way it seemed to be shaking was gone. Instead, it’s cold and quiet, and deadly serious, even when she’s clearly fighting back tears.

“I think, Danvers. That this isn’t going to work out.”   
“I see.”

“Do you?” And you don’t know why you ask, but you regret it the minute she yanks her gaze up, hardened onto you.

“No, I don’t actually. You of all people should get why I’m scared, and yet you’re throwing me aside because I’m not ready?”

“Some of us are ready, Danvers. That’s my point.”

“You know, I thought I was gonna have to do some making up for my request, but I didn’t realize that it would end like this. You know what, enjoy your singledom in the dance, maybe someone out and proud and not fresh off the boat will dance with you tonight.”

She had stormed off before you two could finish your fight.

You never danced with anyone that night.

And the last official thing she ever said to you was in a text message.

With six weeks left of school, maybe it’s time you and me, should stop talking. Nothing like six weeks of awkward tension to ruin a senior year.

You texted her thirty-seven times in 48 hours before you realize she’s not going to answer.

You both take up the same space, go to the same classes, but the sun isn’t as bright and the world isn’t as clear.

And it’s all because Alex Danvers won’t look you in the eye, talk to you, or even acknowledge your existence.

You graduate and leave for Gotham as soon as you can.

And you’ve never regretted anything more.

\--- PRESENT

You sleep with her on a Friday, you stay at her house on a Saturday morning.

You completely ignore her text, calls, and invitations all through Sunday.

And she comes banging on your door at 6:37 AM on a Monday.

You’ve got less than 24 hours left in Midvale, and you were trying to let the pain of probably never seeing her feel less painful

(Which is still stupid, you live and work in National City now. It may be big, but it isn’t that big. But when have you ever been anything less than over dramatic about pretty girls? Or specifically Alex Danvers for that matter.)

But at 6:37 AM on a Monday, she’s dressed in a running outfit, she’s sweaty and looks heated like she ran to your bed and breakfast from her house.

She’s got a leave in her hair, but when you go to mention it, she’s already got her hands on her face, and she’s kissing you.

Oh god, she’s kissing you.

And you’ve been standing there like a fool.

When you finally kiss her back, she tastes like too sweet coffee, and cinnamon, and you’ve gotten a whiff of the air, and it’s filled with the vanilla that she always seems to smell like.

It’s an overload on your senses and it’s not until she pulls back out of breath that you realize that maybe you had been kissing her in your doorway, at the crack ass of dawn, a little longer than you had thought.

“Go on a date with me.”

She spoke it so fast, but so concise, and sure, that you did a double take. Still hazy from the kiss, still reeling.

“I know I’m doing this backward, considering we’ve already slept together, and I maybe wasn’t clear before, but go on an honest to god, a real date with me. And I know we’ve been probably on like two at this point if you count breakfast and drinks but -”

“But?”

You can’t help but smirk.   
“Come with me to Lorenzo’s tonight. I’ve let you out of my life once, I’ll be damned if I don’t at least try to woo you back into it.”

Lorenzo’s is the most expensive, best sit down restaurant in the area. Then again it’s one of about three, so there isn’t much of a choice. That doesn’t matter though because right now your mind is stuck on something else.

“Woo me?”

She’s wide-eyed, and resting almost on the tips of her toes, having been bouncing. Making her seem taller than she is normally.

“Sawyer, answer the damn question.”

Your smirk only widens.

“Pick me up at seven.”

“Tonight?”

“Tonight.”

She looks like she’s about to say something else, but you stop her.

“Let’s not overthink it, alright? Dinner tonight and then we can figure out the rest after we’re full on amazing Italian food.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as noticed maybe, i hit the chapter down by one because i'm only going to do one or two more chapters before i start maybe a one shot or a two shot of them after the reunion as well.

**Author's Note:**

> send your questions to my tumblr @sawyerdnvers.


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